


Blue-Eyed Boy

by Highsmith (quimtessence)



Category: Dracula & Related Fandoms, Dracula (TV 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Episode: S01E01 The Rules of the Beast, Explicit Sexual Content, Extremely Dubious Consent, First Kiss, Hand Jobs, M/M, Non-Consensual Blood Drinking, Possessive Behaviour, Sleep Sex, That AU Where Dracula Fucking Paces Himself with the Blood Drinking, The Rules of the Beast, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:33:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22217848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quimtessence/pseuds/Highsmith
Summary: What if Dracula actually paced himself with Jonathan? After all, he's got seemingly all the time in the world.
Relationships: Count Dracula/Jonathan Harker
Comments: 20
Kudos: 422





	Blue-Eyed Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I'm back at it with this nonsense. Enjoy?!?

One time is not enough, would never be enough, not for the likes of him, but he abstains from drinking from the lovely Jonathan past the first night he spends under Dracula's roof, not from anything even remotely approaching pity or restraint, much less regret, but rather for fear of taking too much, driving the poor boy towards extremes by taking it all, letting him feel the life draining from him entirely too soon. Knowledge of Jonny's deepest self comes with the first sip, and that is what he craves most after all.

Slow. And patient. He can certainly be both.

He cannot, however, prevent the lad from stumbling his way up and down the castle's corridors any more than he could wander its halls himself by daylight. He can only trust the lack of further, ahem, _drainage_ will at the very least prevent Jonny from reaching the heights of panic and paranoia and fear sooner than Dracula would hope. Their evenings remain civil and educational, even though it is plain to see dear Jonathan is looking for a way out, biding his time, itching to claw his way out of the cell Dracula has put him in, never mind he does not yet seem to fully comprehend that is where he has been put.

On the third night that he settles for what flows through the veins of the peasants down in the village at the edge of the valley rather than visit Jonathan in his bed, he detours past his bedchamber regardless, keeping his footsteps heavier than he needs to. His Jonny had remarked during dinner that the Count looked much too fair for someone stuck in a castle with such harsh winter storms blowing at its battlements, before Dracula thanked him for his generosity and refilled his wine glass once more. Now he wonders whether refraining from his visits is causing more damage than it's worth. He _knows_ his command of the English tongue has started slipping by the time they said goodnight, which brings about temptation as powerful as it were the first night all over again.

But Jonathan is asleep, having tired himself out from the wine and his daytime wanderings. In a way, it's better this way.

*

The dream is deep, and golden, and lit with an internal warmth Dracula has not had reason to feel for far too long. It doesn't agree with him, but he suffers its presence as he hovers above the bed.

He sinks in cleanly, skin breaking around him like hot metal through butter, and blood flows instantly, almost in a rush, as if it were willingly gushing out to meet his tongue. Only then does he lower himself onto the bed, onto his dear Jonny. For one, the proximity makes it easier to drink. For another, the first drop grants him sought-after knowledge, such as whether Jonathan is about to wake, which he now knows is not about to occur anytime soon, and, if it were, he would taste it first. Therefore, he might as well make himself comfortable.

His Jonny's dreams soon turn from shining hair and ink-smudged letters to dark hallways and darker eyes. It sweetens his blood, and between them Dracula can soon feel Jonathan's cock hardening by increments. His sleep is too deep for him to feel how the life is being sucked out of him minute by minute, but the Count is not greedy enough to take it all. Not this time. Perhaps never. It is far too tempting to make Jonny his Bride.

However, it does not mean he is unwilling to humour him. Retracting his teeth, he licks at the wound, which seals and finely scars within moments under Dracula's saliva. He finds his Jonny's cock beneath his breeches hard and leaking already. It's only a matter of minutes to go from fisting it to dragging his palm up and down it to smear Jonny's own pre-come around, make him wet all over, get some friction going. Soon enough there are moans, thin little things barely erupting from between his lips. His hips lift incessantly, as if to chase Dracula's hand, needing it enough to muster up the coordination even in sleep to thrust up over and over all into his palm.

When he comes, it's with a full-bodied tremor and a deep moan which shakes him from head to toe beneath Dracula's hands. It's a messy egg white he has to wipe off on a pocket handkerchief he decides in the moment he will save for later. As a parting gift, he brushes his lips just once to Jonathan's, though he licks between them in the same movement, too. He has a hope his taste will be the first thing Jonathan will wonder about come morning, why the copper is so strong on his tongue from the night's activities only.

*

They take an early supper the following evening, and Jonathan refuses to meet his eyes, so much so that Dracula misses the blue of them by the time the last morsel has been eaten.

Jonathan has stopped asking why the Count does not partake at his side. Smart boy.

But when they are to part at his door after an evening's length spent conversing in increasingly more complex English to aid in Dracula's seemingly miraculously improving vocabulary he does not bid the Count goodnight. On a quick, wine-scented breath he invites him in instead.

Dracula does not think he imagines the blue shining brighter than he's ever seen it yet.

**Author's Note:**

> Here, I have a [tumblr](https://rhubarbdreams.tumblr.com/).


End file.
